Don't think for a second that I wouldn't immediately drop everything and run away with you.
*frowns*If it weren't for my contract with the government.
*heavy sigh*I know this isn't what you signed up for, but a few years, and we can be out of here.
*presses firm kiss to her hair*We can go anywhere you'd like. Okay?

*shakes head, laughs*I could never, my darling.
*pulls her into gentle kiss*I love you more than anything, or anyone in this world. Promise.
*small smile*Just tell me the basics so I don't get caught off guard in the morning?

*doesn't even bother asking for a further explanation*Okay, babe. I'm going!
*retreats into bathroom*
*calls out*What the f*ck is this one? It has... is that lace?
*is silent for a moment*Oh, this one isn't bad. It's like my old one.

*wraps arms around her waist from behind*I want you to take the job.
*presses nose to her hair*You're gonna kill it.
*whispers*But, don't be mad if I loiter like I did in LA.
*smirks*And then, at the end of the night, we can do it on all the huge bills you're gonna get as tips.

Hey. Stop that.
*tilts her chin up*I'm getting you a ring because I love you, silly. First and foremost.
*leans in*You're my fiancée, and I want everyone to know it.
*gentle nose kiss*Not just needy men at the bar.

Yes.
*very emphatic, very frank*Men are dogs, especially on a military base.
*scowls*They're going to hit on you like...
*hmphs*I'm getting you a ring tomorrow. And you'll wear it.
*takes her left hand*On this hand.

F*ck yeah, I'm your fiancée.
*picks her up, swings her around*I'm still riding that adrenaline high.
*presses firm kiss to her forehead*I could probably do it again. Right now.
*... could possibly have been drugged?*What'd you get up to today?
*sets her back down*

*jumps up*I finished my 2-mile run in just over 16 minutes. It's a new personal record.
*so f*cking proud*I've been pushing myself on my morning runs just so I could crush the PFT.
*dances around*Lieutenant's still got it.
*flexes*

*jumps up*I finished my 2-mile run in just over 16 minutes. It's a new personal record.
*so f*cking proud*I've been pushing myself on my morning runs just so I could crush the PFT.
*dances around*Lieutenant's still got it.
*flexes*

You practically showed me to the door.
*mildly offended*Whatever.
*huffs*I'll just have to make it up to you.
*flips over, presses her into couch cushions*Even though I wear a different uniform now.
*trails kisses*

*catches her by the waist before she can walk away*I could always go for an appetizer, though.
*sly grin*Let me get dinner going, and then I'll join you...
*pulls her into a lingering kiss*Sounds like a plan?
*spins her around, pats her ass*

Baby, don't cry!
*peppers her with kisses*I'll always want to. But, if you ever feel like it's too much, just tell me.
*holds her tight*I promise I won't be offended.
*smiles against her hair*You're my favorite person in the world.

*jumps under covers, immediately pulls her close*I just don't want you to ever feel like you're, you know. Obligated.
*nudges with nose*You don't have to prove to me that you love me through sex.
*happy sigh*Just you being here is enough.

*squints*I don't take orders, babe. I'm an officer.
*moves to stand behind her*And if you're going to salute me, do it properly.
*presses hand to the small of her back, guides her hand*Don't make a mockery of it.
*leans in to kiss her shoulder*

*laughs loudly*You can thank the US Army for that.
*sets her down, grins*We don't tolerate weakness. We send the ones who can't keep up to the Air Force.
*only (kind of) teasing*
*reaches around to draw bath*You gonna sit with me?

Zara Peer
Soooo, what I'm hearing is that you threw the contents of a perfectly good can of spaghetti-o's in the air just because.
Couple questions.
Did you do it inside?
Have you taken a shower yet?
Why the hell didn't you wait for me?

I asked you nicely, didn't I?
*turns over*And I've told you before that it bothered me that you'd joke about getting me high.
*arms snake around her shoulders*I'm sorry I overreacted. I love you, and I love your sense of humor. Just...
*presses a kiss to her hair*Just not when it comes to drugs.

I just --
*frowns*I know you were, baby. I'm sorry.
*pulls her close*I just worry so much about making sure you're happy, and I can't imagine how I'd do that without being able to provide for you.
*pragmatic brain engaged*

Please stop doing that.
*runs fingers through hair*Putting my career on the line, even as a joke...
*shakes head*This is the only thing I've ever been good at, so I'd be dead in the water.
*sighs*How am I supposed to take care of you?

You used what...
*wide eyes, total panic*You're joking.
*spits mouthful into napkin*That's not f*cking funny, Zara.
*gets up*I could be discharged, I could lose everything.
*minor overreaction, maybe?*

*stops*Baby?
*leans away*We don't have to do anything you don't want to do.
*so earnest, so worried*C'mere.
*sits up, pulls her into lap*You just have to tell me what you want, baby. And be honest.
*tender kiss*I won't be offended. Promise.

Zara Peer
I just don't understand why you don't f*cking trust me.
I was neither belittling, nor dismissing your concerns.
I've known Sage since I was 18. You can't just drop interpersonal relationships that old. It's not that easy.
Look, I'll stop hanging out with her outside of work, alright?

*shoves hands in pockets*We work together, Zara.
*heavy sigh*I don't have a choice in who gets involved with my men. Or who I take orders from. I can't just...
*clears throat*It's not that easy.
*fighting to keep level headed*You can't bring Lyla into this. Your relationship with her isn't even close to being comparable to what I had with Sage.

Hey.
*pauses*I just...
*sharp inhale*You know that I love you, right?
*steps close, takes her by the waist*I know you're upset with me.
*cups her cheek*And I know that Sage rubs you the wrong way. But, what do you want me to do?

Zara Peer
I agree. And that is exactly why we are just friends. Strictly platonic.
I’m engaged. And I’m fairly certain she’s f*cking Lt. Clarke down the street.
I don’t think I’m giving you any reason to be insecure, baby. I’m only interested in you.

*wide eyes*The United States Army does not prepare its soldiers for interrogations conducted by moms!
*slight panic*What if she doesn't think I'm right for you? What if she doesn't like me?
*deep breath*

Please don't. With my dad. That's... no.
*grimaces*I'm still pretty solid, thanks. You just happen to make me a little more emotional than what I'm used to.
*clears throat*So, uhm... what does that mean?

It was implied, though.
*holds up hand, points to ring finger*So, yes. Of course. If you're willing to spend the rest of your natural life waking up next to me.
*quiet laugh*And tolerating how stubborn and emotionally stunted I can be.
*grins against her hair*

Of course I love you, silly.
*steps out of shower, holds out towel*I thought I'd made that clear?
*pauses*I could take your name. Or we could hyphenate, too.
*shrugs*
*is pretty partial to all 3 options*

*arches brow*I...
*takes ahold of her wrists*Baby. Babe. Stop.
*presses a kiss to her forehead*I don't know why I didn't say anything.
*sighs*I woke up, and decided it was time. I was going to tell you, but I got so used to wearing it so quickly that I forgot I even put it on.
*soft smile*It's like I've been wearing it for lifetimes, already.

I actually, uhm...
*clears throat, points through back window*I packed the truck this morning with our sleeping bags and some pillows, so we could do some more stargazing.
*sheepish grin*We could get ice cream, then find a field or open area.
*just wants to be close to her*Fool around a little, make out and stuff.

-shakes head-Don’t worry about it, nugget.
-leans over for a quick cheek kiss-I’m happy you trust me, though. You’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with, you know.
-the most honest-I love you. A lot.

-is silent for a moment-
-intense fascination with the road ahead-
-deep breath-That’s fair.
-more silence-You don’t need to apologize, babe. I understand.
-glances over-We’ll have our own barbecue, then? We can make tofu kebabs, and eat on the trampoline.

-blinks, notices abrupt shift in mood-I wouldn’t go without you.
-reaches out for her hand-The invitation is for both of us. My guys are going to be there. Their wives, kids, you know. Family affair.
-clears throat-We could bring Barney.
-shifts truck into drive-No pressure. Only ice cream.
-small smile-

Yeah, why not?
*small smile*We can figure out what and when would work for all of us, yeah?
*even bigger smile*Aw, baby. That was so gay.
*braces for some kind of retaliation*I like it, though. I love you so, so much.
*cups her chin*More than I know how to express.

*grins*All the places I can't reach. You're very good to me.
*rolls eyes, laughs*Sure, babe. You're a great lesbian, and even better at the other thing.
*lil nose kiss*You're the cutest thing in the world.

*squints*If you were pregnant, what?
*arches brow*I'd still love you. I meant it when I said that I'd take him, or her as my own.
*squints again*But, judging by your aversion to the male anatomy, I don't see how you...
*clears throat*Could be???

*comes out with armful of blankets*How fitting.
*dumps blankets on top of trampoline and Zara*Cosmic brownies. The Milky Way. A girlfriend with an out of this world, grade A, top shelf ass.
*climbs up*I have everything I could ever want right here.

I just thought you deserved a better situation than the one you were in.
*strokes her cheek*I still believe that, and I hope and pray that I'll live up to that higher standard.
*cue the stupid, dumb waterworks*
*coughs*I love you, Zara. There's no other way of explaining it.

I wasn't very kind to you, either.
*frowns*I'm sorry. Really. I never really meant any of the things I said to you.
*sniffs*I loved you from the moment I saw you, you know. I just... I didn't know how to process that. I didn't like the idea of being vulnerable.
*short laugh*I still don't. But, you're worth it.

“I’ve heard that when you’re in love with someone, you like the way they smell,” Rickie notes, proud that she remembered such a seemingly useless bit of information. It would certainly offer an explanation as to why she was always so fixated on the way Zara smelled of coffee.

“Was it not clear before?” she asks, choosing not to acknowledge the subtle break in Zara’s voice, “I was hoping that you’d wake up knowing, each and every day, just how much you mean to me, baby.”

Rickie shifts to lift Zara’s head, craving the warm sensation she gets whenever their eyes meet. Her chest cavity fills with such adoration for the younger woman that all she can do is stare in complete awe. “I do,” she says finally, “But, first…”

Hands reach up so that fingers can tangle themselves in sienna-colored hair. Rickie pulls Zara into a kiss, hoping to pour every ounce of affection into her. She’s in no particular hurry to part, either.

Rickie squints. “Six hours, huh? Seems… excessive.” She can’t help but laugh then, the idea of Zara bouncing for such a long period of time isn’t particularly too far from the imagination. Rickie had noticed the younger woman’s tendencies for dramatic swings in energy level. Spontaneity and impulse had been two characteristics Rickie had found so attractive in the first place, and she’s beyond glad that Zara hasn’t abandoned these particular antics.

“I assure you, I did not eat one of your brownies. I actually haven’t eaten since breakfast. Maybe you’re just craving one?”

She pauses for a moment, taking ahold of Zara’s wrists. Then, she’s guiding her hands, eager for the woman to take initiative (and be less of a tease). “I’m about three seconds away from carrying you into the house,” she whispers, a huge smirk taking command of her lips.

“Definitely something to keep you and Barney entertained during the day,” she muses, momentarily distracted by the way Zara’s hands feel on her hips. She’s left breathless after another kiss, eyes remaining shut as Zara inquires about her day.

“Boring ol’ military training stuff. Bet you had a better day.” Rickie moves to straddle Zara’s hips then, almost thrown off-balanced by the springy, elastic mesh. Hands planted on either side of her girlfriend’s head, she leans down, smiling. “What else did you get up to?"

Their nighttime routine is completed in record time, as both women are eager to get into bed. They bicker over sharing the covers, but the problem soon resolves itself when Zara gives a massive yawn. Rickie extends her arms, knowing that Zara will turn over and settle back against her tall frame. Absolutely spoiled by being in a relationship, this is the only way Rickie can guarantee a decent night’s sleep.

“I love you too, baby,” she whispers, lips then pressing against Zara’s hair. It’s not long until the smaller woman falls asleep, and although her body is tired, Rickie’s too preoccupied with the way Zara always smells like coffee to fall asleep, heart too full for her to settle for the night. The steady rise and fall of Zara’s chest is reassuring, and oddly enough, Rickie finds the way her feet and hands twitch to be rather endearing.

I wonder what she’s dreaming about.

The thought lulls her into her own slumber. When her alarm sounds the following morning, she decides to break from routine. She doesn’t regret skipping her run for a little extra time tangled in the sheets with Zara. After all, as good as she feels after working out, she knows that waking up with the love her life feels even better.

Rickie smiles against Zara’s lips. “You’re all that matters to me. I’m good as long as I have you.”

She reaches up to take off her military tags, slipping the ring onto the silver chain for safe keeping. “I’ll carry it close to my heart,” she whispers, leaning in to press her forehead to Zara’s, “And then when I’m ready, you can put it on me the right way.”

The couple sits in silence, hum of the television the only noise in the house for the time being. The sincerity and affection expressed in Zara’s words, then, almost bring Rickie to tears. She’d always counted herself as the lucky one, and in this moment, she knows she’s right. And it is in this moment that Rickie makes a silent vow to always be at her best for Zara, no matter the circumstance.

“You are capable of anything. And everything. I will support you in all of your endeavors, and do my absolute best to alway keep you happy.

“The banjo gets very old, very fast,” Rickie admits, shaking her head. Her arms find their way around Zara’s lithe frame, pulling her as close as humanly possible. Despite the noticeable height difference, the two women fit together rather comfortably; Rickie loves that there’s no dispute over who’s big spoon.

“I know you do, babe. I love you, too. With all my heart.”

She means it, too. Every word, every syllable. There’s not enough love in the world to adequately compare to what Rickie holds in her heart. She’s surprised, really, that she’s even capable of feeling so much. That same heart, however, stutters when her fingers close around a round metal object.

“Are you sure?” she asks, eyes searching for any hint of doubt in Zara’s expression.

When Zara had mentioned ‘surprises’ earlier in the day, Rickie had, by no means, anticipated such a grand gesture. Sure, the younger woman was generous in her time and expressions of affection. But, this - this was above and beyond anything Rickie could’ve expected. Of course, she’s appreciative beyond words. She knows that country music is Zara’s least favorite genre (as it is with a decent percentage of the American population - a notion Rickie will never quite understand). So, to willingly sit through a set had been a true testament to her love for the lieutenant. Maybe the number of mixed drinks had helped. Still, Rickie can’t help but grin.

When Zara stirs, Rickie reaches around for the remote. She hums in response to Zara’s inquiry. “I did,” she responds, hitting the pause button, “You didn’t have to do all that for me, you know.”

I would’ve been just fine sitting here with you.

It’s the company that counts.

“Thank you” she comments, turning her head some to press her nose to Zara’s hair, “At least the band tonight wasn’t too country twang."

I mean, you don't have to hide it on me, Zara.
*pulls her close again*Just because it's not on my finger, doesn't mean I don't want it.
*eskimo kisses*I love you. I cannot tell you often enough that you're all I want in this life.
*shrugs*But, if you're more comfortable holding onto it, I'm alright with that, too.

*rolls eyes*I see how it is.
*playful nudge*Liam and Ethan are both are d*ckheads. F*ck their degrees, they're in the Navy.
*such a military snob, only half kidding*Let's maybe focus on getting married first, yeah?
*peppers her with kisses as a distraction*And then we can talk about my brothers, and the kids, and their names.

*wide eyes*Zara. Six?
*pragmatic brain engaged*I can't afford to support an eight-person household. And a dog.
*stops*I'm sorry, baby. I would love a big family, but...
*stops again*You know what, we'll figure it out. Okay?
*small smile*Because I love you, too. And I want us, always. And a family, and a dog. And this house, or... or wherever we end up later on.

*arches brow*Well, when you put it like that --
*pulls her into a lingering kiss*I love that I'm your future, future wife.
*is so soft*Not to get ahead of ourselves, but...
*clears throat*What happens if we were to have actual kids? Would Barney stay as a son, or would he be demoted?

*can't hide the smirk*It's nice, huh. Thanks, babe. You're so generous with your words.
*loves to tease*
*leans in for a kiss, stops*Our son? Oh, I... didn't realize that's what we were calling him, now.
*taken slightly by surprise by mention of child*I guess I like the idea. He is mildly obsessed with you.

*grins*Admit it, baby. You can tolerate country music. Something about North Carolina has you into it.
*presses a kiss to her forehead*You fished that shirt out of the laundry basket, didn't you?
*lowkey proud that she's wearing an 'Army' shirt*

Rickie hums in thought. "My parents would come. But, my brothers - they're both military doctors. *******s are both in the Navy, so it'd depend on where they're stationed." This is pretty much the first time she's opened up about her family. Not that she's ashamed; it's just never been a topic of conversation. It'd never really occurred to Rickie just how military-centered her entire family is. She's the true epitome of a military brat.

"It'd better be me at the end of the aisle," she adds, leaning in for a slow kiss.

The statement is made before Rickie can stop herself. She blinks, heart stopping in her chest. All she can do is stare at the woman below her, entirely unsure of how to proceed. After what feels like an eternity, Rickie clears her throat. "Or we can just file the paperwork, that's fine too."

"Like you mean it," Rickie whispers, leaving just enough room for only the words spoken. When Zara turns her head, the lieutenant peppers her jawline and neck with gentle kisses. Intoxicated by the proximity, she's only able to offer a content hum in response to Zara's request. Afterall, she's an absolute sucker for those puppy dog eyes.

The clatter around the house makes Rickie cringe inwardly. She knows, however, that in her panic, Zara is not concerned with cleanliness. When the woman returns, Rickie is grinning behind her hand, almost incapable of suppressing her laughter any longer. "I'm not going to break up with you, babe," she responds, hand falling away from her nose, "But, now you have to promise that you won't break up with me."

Rickie's half-expecting an onslaught of tiny fists, so she grabs a cushion to shield herself. It was a little bit of a mean prank - kind of like the time she'd feigned a broken ankle on a hike back home. But, she was beginning to enjoy capitalizing on Zara's naïveté.

"Fine, I'm fine," she says, voiced muffled by her palm, "Can you just, do you mind to get some tissues?"

The expression on Zara's face clearly reads panic, and Rickie almost feels bad for milking the injury. But, it'd been her intention to get back at her girlfriend for banning red meat. However childishly vindictive it may be. "We might have to -- nevermind. Tissues, if you could? Please?"

Rickie’s plotting, and she knows Zara can tell, making the entire process that much more amusing. “Not moody,” she states, simply and earnestly. A cheeky grin splits her typically stoic features then, letting Zara know that she’s not at all upset.

With Zara happily satiated and the groceries neatly put away, Rickie collapses onto the couch. She pats her lap, beckoning for Zara to join her. It’s not until she’s comfortable that Rickie reaches around to squeeze Zara’s sides. The smaller woman yelps, but it’s not enough to halt the lieutenant’s efforts. “No meat, no naps!” she hollers, tickling fingers reaching in once more.

Rickie rolls her eyes - there's no point in arguing with Zara any further, the lieutenant knows she's only digging herself deeper into a hole. "Yes, mom."

Once they've collected everything on their list, Rickie flashes her military ID at the check-out counter. The trip home is made primarily in silence, yet affectionately hand in hand; Rickie's just too preoccupied with devising a plan to get back at her girlfriend. She hopes Zara doesn't think she's still brooding over the lack of red meat in the backseat.

"I need real protein, Zara. I love you, but I can't do that compressed bean bullsh*t." Rickie shudders at the thought of eating tofu - she'd try it, of course, but only for Zara's benefit. "Just one good cut of steak, baby. Please."

Pleading seems childish, especially since it's about actual, nutritional food (and not snacks). She follows silently for a while, moping alongside the cart as Zara shuffles down each aisle. "We're naked together quite frequently," she comments finally, leaning in to speak in a hushed tone, "Is my body just not that memorable?"

"Who c-- hey! I care!" Rickie exclaims, blinking. She hops out of the truck quickly, following Zara through the maze of parked cars. Catching up, she takes the woman by the waist, interrupting her endeavor for food. "I will do your laundry. Okay?"

After stealing a kiss of her own, Rickie cops an unabashed feel as Zara once again sets off toward the storefront. She's amused by the list of food, always amazed by how much the smaller woman could pack away.

Rickie is perpetually grinning when she's around Zara. That's a fact. Without looking away from the road, she reaches out, hand giving Zara's thigh a firm squeeze. "Good to know I'm just here to be used."

The redhead falls silent for a moment, realizing how she'd just compared Zara to other Army wives. It hadn't been meant as a reminder of what had transpired a few days prior, but it still makes her heart ache a little. She's desperate to accept Zara's proposal. But, the part of her governed by caution and order prevents her from saying yes. After clearing her throat, Rickie continues, "I would've thought Barney is enough in the morning, no? He always manages to wedge himself in between us, anyways."

Rickie lets out an uproarious laugh, which is somewhat uncharacteristic of her. But, she can't help the way Zara makes her feel. There's always been something about her free spirit, something that draws Rickie in and keeps her absolutely captivated.

"I'm sure there are plenty of Army wives on this base just dying to be a part of this new club," she quips, smirking, "As if their spouses don't do enough around here."

"Of course making up is your favorite part," Rickie responds with a playful eyeroll. Truth be told, it's hers, too. But, getting into fights just for the aftermath isn't particularly a habit Rickie wants to form. She glances over at Zara, offering a gentle squeeze and a wide grin of her own. There are no words to express how happy she is, being back in the younger woman's company.

-snorts-Barney was meant as an apology, babe. Not as some ploy to get you here.
-gets all serious-I wanted to make sure you knew I was willing to make a sacrifice like that for your happiness.
-leans away to meet her gaze-You didn't think it was actually a bribe, did you?

-playful eye roll-I just moved here, babe.
-gentle squeeze-But, yes. Grocery shopping first thing.
-laughs a little-I didn't exactly expect you to be here. Otherwise I would've had all your favorite things in stock.

-blinks-Babe...
-wide grin-God, I love you.
-carries her over to couch, plops down-Tomorrow night, then. I'm sure the guys will be at the bar again, anyways.
-pulls her close-I'm going to show you off.

-brow furrows-No, I... I just figured that maybe you weren't keen on, you know...
-so nervous all of a sudden-I'm not ashamed of you. Don't ever think that I am.
-eskimo kisses-If anything, you're my piece of arm candy.
-winks-

-lifts her off the ground-You have me for the rest of the night.
-leans in for a kiss-Unless you wanted to go out. Sage and the guys...
-stops, clears throat-Let's stay in, I want to snuggle and binge watch the new season of Luke Cage.

Rickie’s chest feels full for the first time in a weeks, knowing that Zara has made her decision to stay. It’s that same exuberance that prompts the lieutenant to lift Zara off her feet, and swing her around. “I love you,” she’s saying, over and over.

Finally, she sets Zara back down, smiling like an absolute fool. “Even though I know you’re primarily here for Barney.” Rickie reaches out to poke Zara’s side, teasingly.

Rickie arches a brow, surprised by how quickly Zara had come to a decision. “Are you sure? Absolutely sure? Because forever is a long time, Zara, and I don’t want to lose you again.”

There’s something about the look of silent pleading in her eyes. Rickie’s sincere in her expression of commitment; Zara had thrown her entire life for a loop, but she’s sure that they were meant to balance one another out. “You know I love you, right?”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Rickie lets out a groan as Zara slips from her grasp, although somewhat amused by the reminder of just how OCD the woman can be. She watches for a moment, a smile still displayed upon her lips.

“Would you come here, please?” she says finally, turning and opening her arms to Zara, “I want you, baby. I want an ‘us’ and a ‘we’ and I want for this to be our home.”

Rickie grows silent, arms tightening around her slim frame. Somehow, Zara still smells of freshly ground coffee, and it makes Rickie let out a content hum. “But, this has to be your dream too, babe. I know this isn’t really your thing, and it’s probably... a lot. But, we can make it work. You know?”

“That’s what I thought,” Rickie responds, offering a sly grin. Suddenly, her hands are on the back of Zara’s thighs, lifting her onto the countertop. Leaning in for a kiss, Rickie grins. The feeling of having The other woman close is indescribable.

Zara Peer
I've already thought about it, Zara.
I knew the second you put it in my hand. I want you, and us. Always.
But, I need you to understand, or at least acknowledge my hesitation.
This relationship is nothing like what I had with Sage, which is why I don't want to f*ck it up by rushing into it.
You are worth the wait.

Rickie stands under the shower-head for a while; normally, she’s efficient in maintaining personal hygiene. But, this morning, she just needs… a moment, or two. After getting dressed, she feeds Barney, retrieving her phone from the kitchen table thereafter. She’s not expecting the string of texts from Zara.

Zara Peer
Honestly ask yourself if you could ever see me with a man.

Zara Peer
Sage is my ex-wife.
We were married for 2 years, back when we were at UCSB. We were both in ROTC, and in the moment, it felt right.
But, Sage was deployed right after our commissioning. I opted into the Reserves. Long distance marriage is hard when you’re 22, and new to the real world.
Being active military makes it even harder.
It's been 7 years since I've seen her, and we've been out of touch this whole time.

It’s all Rickie can offer because she’s at a complete loss for words. She watches as Zara disappears from view, head hung and hands stuffed into her pockets. Doesn’t take a detective to figure out she's heartbroken.

“Job well done, Stone. You f*cking moron.”

After a couple deep breaths, Rickie is able to suppress her temper. There’s no point in putting a hole in the drywall - she’d just moved in, afterall. Instead, she just rolls her eyes at her own behavior, although is not at all shocked by how stupid it all seems. It would’ve been easier to have just agreed, to have taken the leap because at the end of the day, Rickie knows what she wants: Zara, forever.

Reluctantly, Rickie reaches up to unfasten the slim silver chain that hangs around her neck, military tags clinking against the ring. Giving it back hurts, especially paired with Zara’s passive aggressive dig. But, it’d been Rickie’s conscious choice not to accept the proposal.

Because that’s what a ring usually means, right? A f*cking proposal.

The redhead is admittedly a little frustrated with how Zara’s handling the situation. But, she’s really in no position to b*tch and moan, considering how she’d reacted to Zara’s request for time. So, instead she begins to backpedal toward the kitchen.

Rickie has to bite her lip to keep herself from grinning too wide. She almost can’t resist how cute Zara is when she’s rambling. But, she’s clearly just as amused as the woman in front of her. The redhead holds up a hand, halting any continuation of Zara’s monologue.

“C’mere,” she says, beckoning her over with a wave. Rickie’s tempted to pull Zara into a tight hug, but remembers that she’s just returned from a run - it’s a guarantee that Zara would not appreciate a sweaty hug, especially since she’s already showered.

Pressing a gentle kiss to Zara’s hair, the redhead sighs. “Marrying you wouldn’t be a trap,” she said, quietly, “It’s my dream.”

She leans down, then, to press another kiss to Zara's forehead, nose, and finally, lips. “I meant it when I said I love you more than anything. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know, and because of that…”

Rickie cups Zara’s chin, tilting her head back so she can see just how sincere she’s being. “I can’t risk losing you by rushing into a marriage. I’ve done it before, I won’t do it again. Not with you."

Rickie's just rounding the corner when her AppleWatch chimes. Only a quarter mile left, and then she'll be home to respond to Zara's text in person. Her pace quickens, and then, she's all but sprinting down the street. Only partially because she's relieved to hear that Zara still wants to kiss her after... well, earlier. Sweaty and panting, she pushes through the front door, kicking off her sneakers thereafter.

"Zara, I'm home," she calls, sauntering down the hall and into the master bedroom, "Breakfast? We can talk?"

Zara's in, out, and back into bed before Rickie can collect her thoughts enough to respond. It’s a sudden whirlwind of emotion, and despite Zara’s best efforts to mask her hurt feelings, it shows. Rickie’s not too sure of much in that moment, but she knows she’s not about to give back the ring.

“You’re doing everything you should be.”

She knows Zara doesn’t understand her hesitation, and accepts that it might be rather offensive. But, the redhead has her reasons, aside from being abnormally cautious when it comes to matters of the heart. Rickie’s voice drops to a whisper as she stands, resigned to having that one particular, crucial conversation right now. That’ll be for later on.

“I’m the problem.”

Without another word, she slips quietly out of the house. Morning routine calls for her attention, afterall. Typical Rickie Stone.

The admission is out of her mouth before she can censor it. At first, she hopes that Zara will take it as a response to snuggling - morning routine always takes precedence, afterall. But, she knows Zara is perceptive, and would pick up on the tension in her voice. Rickie kneels beside the bed, leveling her gaze with Zara’s in hopes of conveying her own sincerity. She moves to brush some hair away from Zara’s face, marveling at just how beautiful the woman actually is. It’s a sight she would die for over, and over again. Day after day.

“I love you, Zara. More than anything in this world, and I want us, forever. But…”

Not much had been said after Zara’s abrupt appearance. Rickie had silenced herself by kissing the barista, who had responded in the way Rickie would’ve hoped. Sort of. At least, Zara hadn’t screamed at, or rejected her - instead, she crawled straight into bed, giving Rickie the opportunity to text Sage in frantic capital letters. It felt creepy, staring at Zara’s sleeping form in absolute disbelief. But, she couldn’t help it.

Eventually, Rickie made her way to bed, as well. Arms instinctively found their way around the smaller woman, nose pressed to her sienna hair. It’s the best night’s sleep she’s had in weeks. And she’s beyond reluctant to get up when her alarm sounds in the morning. She’s pleasantly surprised when Zara stirs at that hour.

Time stops, then. And so does Rickie’s heart. The ring feels unnaturally heavy in her palm, and all she can do is gape. “Zara,” she says finally, shuffling over to the side of the bed, “Get up, please."

It’d been a long day - she’d filed the last of her Parsons case paperwork, debriefed with Bruce, even squeezed in a quick workout at the precinct gym. Now, all Rickie really wants is to snuggle up with her girlfriend for the rest of the night. She can’t help but grin at Zara’s request for more hummus - Jesus, that woman had an impressive appetite.

Junk, junk, junk.

Rickie’s sifting through the pile of mail quickly when one particular envelope catches her eye. It’s from the government, addressed to ‘Lieutenant Erica O. Stone.’ It’d been a few years since her ROTC graduation at UCSB; she’d been placed in the Army Reserve, and hadn’t anticipated being recommissioned so soon thereafter. Even though she already knows of the news the letter contains, Rickie’s heart beats violently against her ribcage.
Silently, she makes her way down the hall, standing in the doorway of her bedroom for a moment. She watches as Zara flips through the channels, letter clutched in one hand, and container of hummus in the other.

“I have a week to report to Fort Bragg in North Carolina.” It’s a little bit of a blurted admission. But, Rickie has reverted to military mode for the time being. Efficient, candid, blunt.

Barney appreciates any hand that feeds him, cutie.
*continues shuffling away, calls over shoulder*Want anything from the kitchen?
*begins rummaging around in cabinets*Kashi, or Special K.
*mutters, primarily to self*

*takes her by the waist*That was meant as a compliment, silly.
*presses a kiss to her forehead*I don't mind, I like that you're a hungry person.
*nuzzles*I like all of you, Zara. I thought I'd made that clear.

Rickie can’t help but laugh at Zara’s honesty. “That was meant to be a rhetorical question,” she replies, cheeky grin still playing at her lips, “Because you know, I’m such a smooth talker.”

She watches Zara’s every move, completely enraptured by how stunning the woman is. How she managed to hook someone so goddamn attractive will remain, in her own mind, one of Earth’s greatest mysteries. “I don’t have the words to describe how beautiful you look.” With that, she pulls Zara into an tender kiss, hand cupped under her chin to pull her close.

Rickie can barely keep her eyes off Zara as they make their way toward downtown LA. So uncharacteristically distracted, she finds herself drifting into the adjacent lanes from time to time. A quick apology, and then, her eyes return to the road ahead. But, only for a short period of time. At the restaurant, Rickie helps Zara out of the truck, arm slipping protectively around her waist as soon as her feet touch the ground.

“Detective! Welcome.” The couple is greeted cordially, but Rickie holds up a hand, politely dismissing the mention of her title. She doesn’t particularly enjoy being recognized outside of her work place, simply because she’s indubitably made some enemies over the years. But, the host is gracious as he seats them.

“Anything you want,” she insists before Zara can question the meal’s limitations. And then, she’s smiling exuberantly across the table.

Always prompt and punctual, Rickie makes her way downstairs soon after receiving Zara’s text. She’d been ready to go for at least half an hour, anyways, having been much too eager about going out for dinner. Tonight’s attire is a variation of her work wardrobe, just slightly more casual - a crisp, white button-down, and a pair of dark wash denim jeans. Of course, the Cognac colored Oxfords match her belt, and the neutral tones are starkly contrasted by her riotously red hair.

Her pace quickens slightly when she catches sight of Zara in the apartment complex parking lot. As usual, she’s so stunning that Rickie silently reminds herself to breathe. “Hey, gorgeous. Come here often?”

Wow, Detective. So smooth.

Cringing inwardly, she offers an apology, and a sheepish grin before taking Zara’s hand. They have a dinner reservation to keep - Rossoblu is one of LA’s most popular restaurants, so booking a table on a Friday night had required a little bit of string-pulling. Nothing the detective couldn’t handle, however.

Ever chivalrous, Rickie opens the passenger seat door, holding out a hand for support as Zara steps up and into the black 1970 Chevy C10 truck. It seems cheesy and excessive, but if this is their first date, Rickie Stone is sure as hell going to make it memorable.

“Dinner. Yes. That sounds wonderful.” Rickie can’t help but stare down at their interlocked fingers. It’s not the first time they’ve held hands, obviously. But, this time… it feels different. It’s the realest thing she’s experienced in months, and given her career, that’s no notion to scoff at. Rickie deals with the real world - however harsh it may be - on a daily basis. She knows, for the most part, how things operate. But, being in this moment with Zara doesn’t quite fit with her perception of reality.

Zara begins to lead her out of the apartment, and she follows dutifully. “You make me happy too, Zara,” she says after a long pause, “I can’t remember the last time…”

Rickie shakes her head to stop the thought from progressing any further. She’s here to enjoy Zara’s company, not wallow in the shortcomings of her past. Instead, she smiles down at the barista, hand lifting to tuck a strand of sienna-colored hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful, do you know that?"

7 months since their first curbside interaction. A couple months of intermittent bantering, and a handful of painfully awkward dialogues at Reed’s. Only a few weeks of talking, or rather, of having legitimate, civil conversations. It seems quick, careless even, to be saying the biggest four-letter word in the English language. But, it feels right. There’s absolutely no doubt about it in Rickie’s head.

It takes a few minutes for Zara to respond. She’s frozen in place, gaze locked with Rickie’s, who reaches up to scratch her cheek nervously. The detective begins to second guess her choice to reciprocate the emotion. Had Zara been joking when she’d texted earlier? Had Rickie overstepped her boundaries in saying it back? Did Zara regret admitting it in the first place? But then, a voice breaks Rickie’s downward spiral.

“I do think so, yes.” Zara’s smile is as beautiful as Rickie’s ever seen it, and it knocks the wind clean from her lungs. “But, this is still new to me, to us. And I think we should take things step by step.”

Rickie rolls her eyes at Zara’s non-committal attitude regarding food. She would be the type to just shrug when asked to make a dining choice. Rickie doesn’t mind, though; she finds it oddly endearing since Zara seems to be so eager to please. “Meal prep is done, but I have some… you know what? Let’s go to this salad place.”

It’s a nice night out, anyways. They might as well take advantage of the LA warmth. The expression of surprise that takes command of Zara’s face makes Rickie laugh out loud. Yes, salad is not a meal. And yes, they’d previously discussed that very topic. But, Rickie’s now willing to do things she’d previously been opposed to, if nothing else but to put a smile on Zara’s face. “If I get hungry later, it’s your fault.” She’s teasing, of course.

She’s doing all she can to put Zara’s heart at ease. Rickie can tell that she’s nervous about the absolute bomb she’d dropped earlier in the day, and her nonchalance isn’t meant to exacerbate Zara’s anxiety. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms wrapped tightly around the smaller woman’s waist, Rickie presses a kiss to Zara’s forehead, and pauses.

“I think I love you just a little bit, too.”

The confession comes as a whisper. But, it’s loud coming out of her mouth.

Rickie lets her head drop back against the door, needing a moment to regroup. Not that she would’ve denied Zara… she’s just taken aback by how quickly it all happened. Magic fingers, or something. Zara’s already sauntering away as Rickie begins to button her shirt up.

“Yeah, dinner. Do you just want to get takeout?” It’s not ideal - she's not a huge fan of the grease, but it’s really their only viable option at the moment. After all, the detective's fridge is nearly empty, save for a few beers and some pre-packed tupperware.

“Or, uhm, I can whip something up with what’s left over from meal prepping…”

Rickie’s nervous. The two had talked about dinner, and yet, she has nothing to offer. Fidgeting with the cuff of her shirtsleeve - an obvious tell - she shuffles over to where Zara is standing, and offers a sheepish grin. “We never determined what we were going to eat…"

Rickie’s too busy pretending to be engrossed by something on her phone to notice Zara push through the front doors of the apartment complex. Her attention is torn from the screen when Zara’s hands take command of her face, effectively pulling her into a fervent kiss.

Now that’s a greeting.

“Hey, yourself,” she breathes in response, grinning as Zara pulls away slightly. She can’t help how deafening her heartbeat is in her own ears, she’s almost sure it'll just crack a rib or two. Rickie is amazed by how quickly Zara has endeared herself to her heart; safe to say that she’s never experienced anything so intense before - both in terms of animosity, and affection. Rickie bends to pick up Zara’s bag because chivalry isn’t dead, at least not for lesbians.

In the elevator, the detective presses Zara back against the metal wall. Normally, she’d take the stairs; it’s only 4 flights. But, she needs just another moment to overwhelm Zara with her affections. Then, they’re stumbling and giggling down the hall, pausing every few steps for more tender kisses.

"What did you say you wanted for dinner?" she asks, using her foot to close the door. Zara's still enveloped in her arms, pressed tightly against her side. Rickie doesn't plan on letting go any time soon.

Is that so?
*takes tray of food from her, sets it down elsewhere*I think, maybe I might be able to convince you to like me again.
*lifts her onto countertop*We have a few minutes, you need to let the steak rest before cutting into it.
*settles in between her legs, pulls her into a kiss*A little better, now?

Rickie.
*nips*You sound like my mother when you call me 'Erica' and it's unsettling.
*laughs against her shoulder*But, you're right. Less gay.
*moves to grab two wine glasses*Maybe. I was just told it was a good pairing for steak.

Hey, hey. I'm teasing.
*reaches out for her*Zara, pause for a second. Come here.
*pulls her close*This is new for both of us, okay? There's no need to panic, you just need to talk to me.
*tender forehead kiss*I like you. A lot. And if we want to put a label on whatever this is, then we should do just that. If not, if you're more comfortable with no labels, that's great, too.
*another kiss*All I know is that I'm happy to be here with you. Alright?

Rolled around in my bed so that my sheets would smell like you. And watched more TV?
*wraps arms around her waist*Feels like forever since my lunch break.
*presses a kiss to her forehead*I just missed you all day. Is that... that's gay, even for me.

"Did you... is that a... Zara." Rickie's cheeks turn a deeper shade of red than when Jared interrupted earlier. She can feel the heat of embarrassment spread to her ears as she fastens the top button on her shirt.

"You're unbelievable," she chides, shaking her head. Despite the obvious embarrassment, Rickie can't help but smirk. Zara had left her mark, and at least in the detective's mind, that meant war.

"The sooner we can... yes, you're right. Okay." Rickie's frantically trying to regain her composure as Zara climbs back into the driver's seat. Disheveled and discombobulated, she fumbles to re-button her shirt. When Zara offers to drive her back tot he precinct, Rickie nods politely.

"I'll see you in a bit?" she asks before unbuckling. She's reluctant to leave, can't quite bring herself to say goodbye yet.

Rickie groans when her alarm sounds, head dropping forward onto Zara's shoulder once again. "Work is such a c*ckblock," she grumbles, equally breathless, "I don't want to go back."

She's being a brat, and she knows it. But, in all honesty, she'd rather play hooky, and just go home with Zara - something she never would've even considered just a few days ago. However, the barista is inadvertently influencing her to do things out of the ordinary. It's almost pathetic how willing Rickie had become in such a short period of time.

Rickie is absolutely mortified when Jared's face appears in the window frame. Grinning ear to ear, he introduces himself to Zara, giving a small salute before being interrupted. The look on his face is a combination of confusion and amusement as he glances between Rickie and the woman straddling her hips. "Not a f*cking word of this, or I swear to God," Rickie growls, wagging a finger at her partner.

"Hey, relax. I was just passing by, recognized the red hair through the back window," Jared replies, putting his hands up defensively, "I'm just jealous you're getting some, Stone."

Rickie laughs, both at Jared's honesty, and Zara's rather crude forwardness. She presses her forehead to the barista's shoulder in attempt to hide how reddening cheeks. Her partner is beginning to say something about illegal parking, but Zara's already rolling the window back up. "Time is of the essence, huh?" she teases, returning her attention back to Zara.

She hums in response to Zara's recollection of the day's events, too distracted by the way her lips move to respond properly. When Zara pauses, Rickie takes the opportunity to pull her back into a long kiss. "You know better than to keep talking," she whispers, leaning just far enough away for her words, "I have limited time here."

With that, Rickie nips at Zara's neck, hands wandering. What feels like all but three seconds later, there's a loud knock on the window, making both women jump. Rickie desperately tries to fix her disheveled hair before reaching over to roll down the window. "F*ck."

Rickie takes a gentle hold of Zara's hands, halting the downward progression. "Nudity in a public place is still a crime," she responds, guiding eager fingers away from her shirt buttons, "Even if it's in a parked car."

She pulls Zara into a lingering kiss, and shakes her head after. "Nothing exciting, really. Although we're closer to a conviction than prosecution thinks." She shrugs again; work is work, and she doesn't want Zara to get bored.

"I actually have a pretty good poker face," she insists, squeezing Zara's sides playfully, "I just can't seem to fool you, is all." She leans in to press a kiss to the other woman's jawline, muttering something about the smell of coffee beans and lilacs.

"It is, and that's exactly why I left my badge and gun at the precinct. Now I just look like a well-dressed civilian." She winks for good measure.

Rickie tilts her head, as if to pretend she’s considering her options. She’s sure Zara can see right through her, though. Shrugging with feigned nonchalance, she consents. “Sure,” she says, patting her lap, “Come here.” A wicked grin tugs at her lips as she assists Zara over the center console.

Rickie hums happily; just seeing Zara has relieved a great deal of stress. She reaches across the center console for her hand, fingers interlacing quickly thereafter. “There’s a deli down the street,” she responds, gesturing with her free hand, “The guys and I usually get food there when in a bind.”

The detective had brought her own lunch, but she needed an excuse to see the sienna-haired angel. She’d grown attached to her, genuinely happy for the first time in... well, quite a while.

Rickie's already waiting on the curb when Zara pulls up. She's fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve, trying to decide whether or not to roll them up. Her lips spread into a wide grin as she leans down to greet the barista through the passenger seat window. She'd caught on to the beginning of Zara's Freudian slip, but chooses not to mention it any further.

"Good to know you're still alive," she teases, slipping into the vehicle, "Thought I lost you for a second."

Rickie isn't one to f*ck around with texting and driving jokes, especially when it comes to someone she cares about (ie. Zara). Hypersensitive, that's all. And maybe a little dumb. But, that's alright.

Zara Peer
I’m going to be late tonight. The DA’s office really wants a wrap on this case, so my unit is pulling late hours just to appease.
You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, Barney likes the company. But, if you leave, could you make sure he has water?
Please and thank you. :)

Please don't do that.
*slightly panicked*It could really... It'd jeopardize my career. And my military status.
*sighs*Law enforcement kind of puts a damper on the fun stuff. So does the military, honestly.
*cups her chin*But, hey. I don't have any issue with you using, and I'd never ask you to stop if it's something you enjoy. I promise.

*rolls eyes*Tease.
*follows*Okay, pause. Ground rule. No cannabis in my apartment.
*doesn't mean to be a b*tch about it*Recreational use is legal. For you. And it doesn't bother me that you smoke. But, it's just not something I can do.
*shrugs*I'm sorry. Sometimes I wish I could.

Zara. No hemp oil, for the love of God.
*squints*Do you just conveniently forget that I'm a... You're doing the thing again.
*mumbles under breath*Anyways, I won't be pretending! I don't dislike wine, I just prefer other alcohol.
*pulls her close again*Guess we'll just have to make up for the beer breath and wine teeth now, huh?

*puts her down gently, but doesn't let go*So what? Hmm?
*pulls her close*Insufferable?
*presses a gentle kiss to her forehead*Aggravating?
*another kiss to her nose*Infuriating?
*last one to her lips*I know. But, you live for it.

Barney's loyal. And smart. He knows when not to trust a hoe.
*smirks, braces for another flick*You keep telling me to shut up, and yet, you're the one who's initiating the interaction.
*shakes a little more*Make up your mind, woman!

*feigns offense*I'll have you know that Jared and I have been Day Ones since the Academy!
*tilts head*Okay, that's not true. But, close enough.
*wide grin*That might've been the gayest thing you've ever said to me.

*laughs*Believe me, I've been called much worse.
*catches her easily*Ah well, I guess you're alright, too.
*tries so hard to keep a straight face*
*marches into supermarket*Why don't you get your leaves? I'll get the good stuff.
*teasing wink*

*coughs*I didn’t mean that. I apologize for overstepping your boundaries.
*glances over*I never said I disliked salad. It’s just not dinner. It’s a starter, or a side.
*waves hand*We’ll get salad, too.

*suddenly self-conscious*No, I don’t. I showered this morning.
*sniffs*I don’t stink.
*tangles fingers with hers*And I said I’d drink wine with you.
*squints*I’d do a lot to you, honestly.
*coughs*For you, I mean. And with you.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Rickie’s mouth when Zara says the word ‘detective.’ But, she suppresses it before the barista could take notice. Squaring her shoulders, Rickie replies, “Don’t bank on it being any time soon. So, you’ll have plenty of solo time.”

Just as she turns to leave, she notices a framed photo mounted on the wall. It’s of two women, one of which is undeniably Zara. The other is a familiar face Rickie just can’t place in that moment. They’re leaning into eachother; Zara’s hand is placed possessively on the other woman’s thigh - body language indicative of a close relationship. But, Rickie doesn’t come to the realization until she reaches her truck: Zara is involved with Lyla Singh, one of LA’s most distinguished prosecutors. To what capacity? Well, she has her suspicions. And they leave her feeling dirty and amoral.

She taps her back pocket, and then lifts two fingers to her forehead in the form of a sloppy salute - one that her commanding officer would, no doubt, find offensive. "You're welcome for brunch, by the way," she continues, backpedaling toward the door.

“It’s all yours,” she responds quickly, gesturing to the bowl between them. She’s thrown by the woman’s seemingly genuine cordiality. But, in catching the minute change in Zara’s expression, she’s immediately reminded of her own suspicion. She’d asked this question before, but was given an unsatisfactory cop-out of a response. So, she tries once more.

Eyebrows knit together as frustration begins to build in her chest cavity. She finds everything about this young woman irritating - her unwavering self-assuredness and nonchalant attitude, the way she can see right through her resolve, her high cheekbones and glorious smile. Ugh, stop it.

“No.”

To both inquiries.

“Very rarely am I rendered speechless by the sheer arrogance of another human being,” she states, indignantly, “And believe me, I deal with stupid sh*t like that everyday.”

With that, she sets down the bowl of popcorn, folding her arms across her chest thereafter. She’s internally screaming “Move!” but her muscles refuse to comply. Instead, she stares. Just... stares.

Rickie stands in the doorway, blinking down at the bowl of popcorn that had been thrust into her hands. Stay or go, stay or go? When Zara retreats, the detective follows.

“Stay, I guess,” she mutters to herself. Zara’s apartment is uncharacteristically clean, and Rickie is almost compelled to comment. But, the compliment get stuck in the back of her throat, and is replaced with a strangled cough. Awkward.

Admittedly, Rickie is pleasantly surprised to find the contents of her wallet untouched. She hadn’t left it on purpose, but Zara would think as she pleased. With one hand on the truck doorhandle, she pauses. Somehow, her feet develop a mind of their own, carrying her back into the building and straight toward the elevator, thereafter. She’s silently protesting against her own muscles, and yet, she steps forward, and reaches for the 6th floor button. She doesn’t know what to expect; she doesn’t even know why she’s allowed herself to be so weak-willed.

“I suspect you’re looking for some kind of reward,” she grumbles, rapping her knuckles against the apartment door. As if brunch wasn’t enough, already.

Zara Peer
Case in point: you have no idea how good the Overland is. You actually should be thanking me beforehand.
I’m well aware, but don’t flatter yourself too much by thinking it was anything but desperation. I needed to break a dry spell. You were convenient.

Zara Peer
Not in the mood for games, Zara.
If you really want brunch, I’ll be at the Overland in an hour.
Don’t feel inclined to rush, though. I’d like at least 3 mimosas in me before I have to talk to you.

Rickie's bones protest as she groggily pushes herself upright. A lithe body shifts in the bed next to her, which isn't any immediate cause for alarm. She's been known to reel in the occasional lay just by milking the whole 'LAPD Detective' thing; yet, lately, she's been a little too hung up on... Zara. In that moment, to Rickie's displeasure, the stranger's sienna colored hair becomes all too familiar. F*ck, f*ck, f*ck.

Frantically, she reaches for her phone, which, as expected, has been flooded with iMessages, and missed phone calls. She scrolls past the blue dots, makes a mental note to text her partner back ASAP. She's searching for one message thread in particular. With what she discovers, she doesn't know if she should be horrified, or relieved.

It’s 1:14 am, and Detective Rickie Stone is belligerently drunk. Her team had cracked a major case earlier in the day, and her sergeant insisted on buying a round of celebratory drinks. But, one round turned into four. And four turned into “too many to count.” Fumbling, she retrieves her phone from her jacket pocket. Numb hands and blurred vision are not conducive to efficient texting. Or to having a filter, apparently.

Zara Peer
I dint know what it is about tou that I find so f*cking attractive. Youre a b*txh and a half with the perosnality of a goddamn bear.

Zara Peer
I hate not being in control of how I feel. I find it to be just about as annoying as you are really.

Zara Peer
I don't even know why om texting you right now it just proves that you have some kindof dumb hold over me. Im goin to regret sending this but you know, whatver.

Zara Peer
You win. ok?

“You win,” she whispers, head tilting back against the wall she’s propped herself against. The world is spinning, and her co-workers are much too loud. Only the image of the barista’s smile is clear in her mind. And Rickie absolutely hates it.

Rickie doesn’t realize how badly her last text has backfired until a read receipt appears under the blue bubble. Of course Zara would take advantage of her folly. Rickie’s hooked, and the barista knows it. But, true to stereotype, she is also impossibly stubborn. So, she swipes her thumb quickly over the message thread, deleting it thereafter.

It’s been a while since Rickie’s seen that b*tch of barista. Funnily enough, she hasn’t even crossed her mind. The precinct has been so inundated with work that Rickie barely has time for the love of her life, Barney. But, a series of rather rude texts from an unknown number has her searching in the police database in her very limited free time. Of course, the name that appears doesn’t come as much of a shock.

“Of f*cking course,” the detective grumbles. She’s surprised that Zara had somehow obtained her personal cellphone number, clearly unaware of the barista’s resourcefulness. She’d left her on read a few days prior, having no particular urge to provoke the offensive conversation any further. But now? Well, now she finds herself tapping out a quick message.

It doesn’t take a f*cking detective to pick up on the reluctance in Zara’s voice. “Jeez. Sorry I asked,” Rickie quips, “I was just trying to make up for all the times I practically drooled on your register.”

If she had been so inclined, Rickie could’ve found all kinds of information on the young barista with the swift click of a mouse. Even without a last name. After all, it’s what she does for a living. Instead, she chose to be less creepy and admire from across the coffee shop.

That is, before she tried to hold a real conversation with the woman.

Quickly and dismissively, she mirrors Zara’s two finger salute. No one likes an attitude, even if it has a pretty face. And a smile brighter than the sun. Evidently, Rickie needs to re-evaluate her taste in women because, as it stands, Zara’s kind of a b*tch.

Rickie clears her throat. ”Detective. It’s Detective Stone.” The correction isn’t meant to be attitudinal. She’s just so exasperated with how her brothers call her ‘Officer Erica’ that such a reaction has become habit. Before she can continue, the barista is already slipping past her.

”Yeah, tomorrow - Wait!”

She’s not quite ready for this interaction to be over yet. So, the redhead takes a few steps forward to close the distance. ”You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Rickie arches a brow, a small smile now tugging at the corner of her lips. Somehow, she’s growing comfortable in conversation. Maybe it’s the lack of pushy, demanding, impatient coffee drinkers behind her, or maybe it’s because seeing this woman outside of her workplace has brightened her day some. Either way, she gives herself a mental pat on the back for forming some coherent sentences.

Rickie is tempted to launch into a longwinded explanation as to why she’s without her coffee, but instead chooses only to shrug. ”To work, yeah. Not, no. Not to the café. I’m already late. You should tell your mother, though, that stabbings rarely happen in broad daylight.”

Rickie will never know how that is supposed to be, in any way, reassuring to the barista’s mother. With a shake of her head, she reaches to pluck her phone from the woman’s small hand. Glancing down, her lips press into a thin line. Of f*cking course. Her eyes slide shut as she takes another moment to collect her composure.

”Good thing I’m booked solid for the next two weeks. This is exactly what I needed.”

Sarcasm is palpable in her tone as she pockets her phone, shattered screen and all. She presses a palm to her forehead, sighs, and then attempts a smile. “Sorry for the collision,” she says, finally, “I have to run. Sarge… my boss is already mad at me, and I…”

She remembers. Holy sh*t, she remembers. Rickie feels the heat of embarrassment rush into her cheeks, and she knows they’re almost the same color as her hair.

Of course she remembers, you d*ckhead. When're you ever not loitering when she's on the clock? Jesus.

Rickie almost rolls her eyes in response to her silent monologue. She inhales sharply, re-centering herself. When she’s ready, she can only a sheepish grin. ”Yeah. With a ‘c’,” she responds, "How... I'm sorry I ran into you. I hope you're alright?”

She begins to reach toward the woman, but stops abruptly. Not okay. One would think that Rickie Stone, an LAPD detective, would have more cool than this. Sad reality? She doesn’t. At least, not when The Cute Barista is involved. It’s borderline pathetic. Her hovering hand reaches up to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear, then moves to rub the back of her neck nervously thereafter.

Rickie Stone is running late. She's hardly ever known to be tardy, but today is just going to be one of those days. She could feel it in her bones - she’d already had a rather disastrous morning. Her mother had called to remind her that she was visiting in two days; not that Rickie would admit to forgetting in the first place. Barney, her Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, got sick all over the carpet, which, of course, she had to clean up on her own. Not to mention she didn’t have time to stop for coffee on her way to the precinct. F*ck today.

Her phone rings as she makes her way across the street. “Stone.”

A pause.

“I’m a block away. No, my f*cking dog… yes, sir.” A quiet groan.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m hustling.”

Rickie’s pace quickens; taking the street corner a tad too swiftly, she collides with the slight frame of a young, brown haired woman. She’s sputtering apologies before she can collect herself.

“I’m a f*cking mess today. I’m really…”

Her next words get caught in the back of her throat as she finally catches a glimpse of the woman in front of her. It’s the barista she’s had total heart eyes for. Naturally. That particular café isn’t even on Rickie's direct route to work. But, she’d made the habit of leaving a little earlier, just to stop in to catch a glimpse of this Earth angel. Of course, she justified it by saying the establishment had “good vibes, and good coffee.”